The Ways in Which James Bond Attempts to Seduce His Quartermaster
by luneaspirer
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring a developing relationship between James Bond and his Q. From intrigued acquaintances to friends and more. Non-linear. More like drabbles I suppose.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

Bond strode confidently into his Quartermaster's new office and sat himself on the desk before Q had time to look up and object. Q was startled out of his objections by the amusing yet seductive pose of the secret agent leaning over his desk. He hadn't worked with James Bond for very long but he definitely knew from the missions that Bond loved women quite a bit. The few other times he had been on the receiving end of a softer version of Bond's illustrious "come hither" eyes he'd assumed that they were just left over remnants of a recent encounter with Moneypenny or some other woman around the place. However, Bond's current position did spark a certain amount of pondering on the ideals of the infamous James Bond's sexuality. Not wanting to betray anything to those piercing eyes, just in case, Q continued as normal.

"Can I help you, 007?"

"There are such a myriad of ways in which you can be of service to me, Quartermaster. This time however I was hoping for a new gun. I left mine on the tube."

"The tube? Isn't that a bit below a man of your obvious standards, 007?"

"I wasn't on it by my own choice, Q. I was chasing a suspect as you recall."

"I do recall, I just couldn't resist. You looked so ridiculous just sitting there. I'll get on to the gun thing as soon as possible."

Q began his work once again but look up again after a moment to see that Bond hadn't left, he had only moved into what Q just noticed to be an even more ridiculous seating position that accentuated his rather talked about and most likely best features. Figuring the game could go ahead, Q raised his eyebrow in a challenge.

"Still no chance of an exploding pen as well?" Bond pleaded lightly, with an answering smirk on his face.

"Maybe, if you play your cards right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

There were bullet holes almost tracing a chalk outline around where his body had been and Q was pretty sure a fire had started and was rapidly heading towards them. Despite all this he really couldn't be any happier. He did however decide to celebrate the act of living at a later date when he was sure he still had something to celebrate. Maybe Bond could come over looking like he does now, all heroic, shimmering sweat, torn clothes and ruffled hair. The perfect celebration in Q's momentarily distracted mind. Somewhere between the fiery explosions and bullet showers Q had softened a little to the idea of Bond being not quite so horrible after all.

He thought it might be a combination of the way Bond put his hand softly on the small of his back as he urged his Quartermaster to run faster from the terrifyingly murderous onslaught. Then they way Bond shoved him roughly to the ground behind some crates, jumping after him to avoid the inferno of yet another explosion. Who knew there could be so many? Or that Q would enjoy the minglings of Bond's action and actual personalities so much?

The adrenaline and the way Bond's eyes were shining a colour he'd never seen before were actually making this whole ordeal, kind of fun. His first field agent experience hadn't been going completely wrong so far and Q thinks he might actually be handling himself reasonably well. That was until some terrorist decided to come out of nowhere and take him hostage.

As they dragged him back Q met Bond's eyes and saw that he would save him. His eyes revealed a level of emotion not usually associated with cold, James Bond. Q would have worried more about it but it was yet another thought to save for a moment when he wasn't in mortal danger, perhaps.

Dragged into the next room and sealed with a solid metal door, already six feet underground in this terrorist hideout Q was no longer feeling entirely confident. Pushed on his knees to the floor with a gun to his head he didn't have as long as he thought to contemplate the end of his life before Bond managed to blow through the door to his rescue.

Once all the terrorists were neutralised Bond knelt before Q and helped him to stand. As their eyes met once more the emotion Q thought he saw before was still there. He thought it might be worry, which he supposed was justified given the situation they were in.

Having put a serious dent in the terrorist population the two men were able to eventually make their way back to the surface, mission completed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Finished another mission and still bleeding ever so slightly Bond decided now would be an excellent time to pester Q branch, particularly his favourite Quartermaster. He shot Q a winning smile as the man looked up at him over his computer screen.

Leaning on the bench in front of Q, Bond announced, "After last time I think you need help with your shooting, it was really just terrible. Also although I've already mentioned it I do in fact need my ears a fair bit and would honestly feel a lot safer if you just were, I don't know, a little bit better..."

Q could tell Bond would go on and on with reasons if he didn't just give up, besides he supposed he could use a little practice. Just a bit, MI6's range was always noisy and annoyingly smoky and generally not as nice as his lovely office which he had now become quite attached to.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Q mentioned for Bond to lead the way out the door hoping this would be over soon and he could finish his quite frankly important work. It's not that Bond doesn't also do important work for MI6 but the agent never seemed to realize that sometimes he interrupted his quartermaster at the most inopportune of times. Not only did he interrupt him at bad moments he also interrupted him a lot. If Q hadn't already been so competent at his job the time he spent with Bond might have had some serious repercussions. Unfortunately, Q is usually able to both ward off Bond's advances while tending to his work and the other agents also. If he wasn't so flattered to have the famous womanising James Bond's attention he may have put an end to this game. He will admit that James can actually be amusing and slightly attractive at times; when he isn't being a pain.

007 led Q into one of the end booths where he had already set out a few weapons. Had Q not known the agent so well he might be a little suspicious as some of the other agents appeared to clear out just as they walked along to a section where it was rather smoky, gloomy and secluded. Q knew from observing so many missions that 007 was always aware of when to stop and when his advances were entirely unwanted. However, Q was vain enough that in all the times Bond had attempted to interest the Quartermaster he was somewhat successful. This game of cat and mouse was their thing and neither was bored enough yet to give it up.

"Okay, step up to the line and take this one first."

Q got into position and took the Walther PPK Bond had laid out.

"Okay now stand side on, feet apart."

Q was starting to understand why everyone had disappeared as he felt Bond sneak closer. He sidled up behind Q reaching his hand out and laying it over Q's own.

"It's like this…"

"I'm sure it is." Q mumbled over his shoulder.

"Now Q, do you not believe that I'm being entirely altruistic in my attempts to aid your pitiful aim?"

"And you couldn't help me from any further away?"

"I have to help you feel the weapon Q, haven't you ever seen a spy film?" Bond laughed.

"I feel like I'm the girl in one, if that counts."

"It doesn't."

After helping Q to fire his rounds at the target, Bond leaned over Q and pressed the button to retrieve it and see the progress.

"See, much better, I helped after all."

"Yeah, you helped yourself, certainly."

"As good as you look around guns, 007; some of us actually have work to do most of the time."

"Please, don't let me keep you. But Q-"

"Yes?"

"If you ever need any more help just let me know."

"Of course," Q spun and left the dark booth, a little confused by the way Bond sounded so completely sincere and as if he was definitely not still talking about helping Q with his actually somewhat bad aim.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Despite the minor setbacks of Q's first field mission he was determined to not let it stop him from helping the agents from the field as well when his presence proved necessary. His second mission did in fact go slightly better but he was nowhere near ready to go out with anyone but Bond. Surprisingly, being in the field takes a massive amount of trust, something he only feels with Bond. Reflecting now as he sat at his desk late at night and alone he wasn't sure that Bond still felt the same way.

"Run Q!" Bond demanded as the two men were once again fleeing for their lives. This time they had traded the underground base for a castle. The scenic, open air should have made Q slightly more confident but in the dangerously exposed courtyard all he felt now was adrenaline and nerves. Bond now dropped back slightly to fire at their assailants.

"Shoot." Bond called back to Q. He took out his gun as ordered and attempted to hit at least some part of one of the armed men, hopefully. Bond's expert shooting combined with Q's passable attempts did at least clear their followers in time for them to get through the castle to the keep where they decided they should bunker down for the time being, knowing that reinforcements were on their way provided the organized plan was still intact.

After barricading the door the men sat down on the cool, stone floor to catch their breath.

"You shot me." Bond said blandly, staring at the ground.

"I what?"

"You shot me." He repeated incredulously. 007 turned his head to show Q the tiny cut out of his left ear.

"I think you'll be alright, you're a secret agent." Q scoffed at Bond's clear distress.

"I'm damaged goods now, how am I supposed to seduce women with a hole in my ear?"

"I'm sorry, it will grow back I swear."

"It better, Q."

"Or what?"

"You have no idea." Bond smiled at Q like a predator.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five **

"Bond I know you've done some stupid things and will undoubtedly continue to in the future but that was the most incredulous, imbecilic, excessive thing I have ever seen and I cannot even begin to understand what you in fact thought you were doing and until I can, get out of my office, you know what, don't come into Q Branch at all. I'll get Moneypenny to give you your equipment." Q stopped and sighed, "just please leave, James."

What had begun as a frustrated and irritated speech of considerable passion had at the end fizzled out in the last to a concerned pleading.

Bond understood, or at least suspected what had prompted this fit of rage and respected the man who had become recently a close friend, enough to leave the room quietly with only a glance back in the doorway to see the exhausted quartermaster slump into his chair with his head in his hands.

Q was stubborn. He did not get to be as absolutely brilliant as he was without what he thought was a wonderful trait. He really only felt this was so great because he would be damned if he would admit any different. Being wrong was in Q's mind almost unconditionally the worst possible thing in his whole prodigal life. An unacceptable and deniable thought until the last and as such Q refused to apologise to James Bond. Even when Moneypenny came down to his office to collect 007's latest gadgets, bringing with her a variety of reasons as to why their 'fighting' was pointless and senseless. Not to mention she supplied a full status report of the agent's moaning, whinging and overall impossibility. To top it all off she appealed to Q's fondness for her to please just put her out of her misery and everyone else's.

Q was spared the horror of admitting that he might possibly, maybe have been a little bit wrong. A few days after his talk with Moneypenny he sat at his desk, laptop disregarded in front of him as he leaned on his hand and stared wonderingly at the ceiling. Maybe he should actually consider apologising? Maybe with James it would be alright. Sometimes Q truly realised how important the agent had become to his life, it was startling but made sense instantly when he considered their friendship and everything they had done together and the way he made him feel so easily. Q put his reflections aside when he got a call from the research and development department, apparently something had gone drastically wrong and it was all Q's job to fix it.

When he returned full hours later the genius was surprised to find a sulky Bond in his chair with his feet up on the desk, his hands behind the chair nonchalantly and a dissatisfied look that the young genius could feel from across the cold room.

"What is it now, 007?" Q said in what he hoped was a more relenting and less icy tone than before.

"I thought it might be time to bend the rules a tiny bit."

"You always think that, that's exactly the problem, 007, especially when you put yourself in danger even more unnecessarily than you always do." Q could feel his anger rising again.

Bond decided it was time to execute his master plan and revealed what he had been hiding behind him.

"Flowers, Bond? Now I really do think you confuse me with one of your Bond girls."

"Everyone likes flowers, Q. They're international symbols of apology. Do you accept?"

"Moneypenny tells me I'll have to eventually." Q replied forlornly, "Leave the flowers and I'll think about it."

"I'll see you around, Q?" Bond asked with an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

"Yeah, yeah you will." Q assured him, smiling softly at this side that had emerged in James Bond.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

Q walked into his office with a certain more enthusiasm than usual. After the fight and the flowers Q had a small hope in his mind for some cliché chocolates of forgiveness. He was rather peckish and wouldn't mind having some to keep in his office for the times when things inevitably got intensely busy for days on end. Finding no gifts of any kind Q sat down at his desk with his Earl Grey and began the day.

It wasn't long before he was interrupted by a soft thumping sound that was approaching louder and louder. He looked up in time to see Bond power slide around the corner into his fortunately open doorway.

"Q you've got to hide me. M has lost it."

"What?"

"Please." Bond whined.

"Okay." Q relented. Bond dived under the desk he had already calculated as the best hiding space possible, knowing Q would agree to hide him.

"Sit down Q, quickly."

"Why on Earth would she not think to look under the desk?" Q muttered not looking away from the computer screen just in case someone came running in.

"Because you're still angry at me, everyone knows it."

"I'm not angry exactly…" Q trailed off at the approaching sounds.

M stormed in with three bulky looking agents; overkill, in Q's humble opinion.

"Have you seen him?" She demanded coldly.

"Who?"

"You know who."

"I really haven't and I don't really care to for a while." Q feigned disinterest well, which was fortunate as he now felt a not entirely unwelcome hand creeping up his thigh.

"If you see him, tell him as nicely and deceptively as possible that I would very much like to see him."

"Will do," Q stated with a blank face as the hand slid.

M turned to leave then spun back around. "And Q, if I find out you have been hiding him you know I will be very cross." She added with a last ditch effort at intimidation.

"I understand." Q even nodded for extra effect.

As soon as she had definitely left Q took the liberty of kneeing a certain secret agent.

"We're not in the Breakfast Club, so please get away from my crotch."

Bond just chuckled at the reaction he had inspired from his colleague.

"Thank you for hiding me Q, I really am grateful."

"You're welcome. Get out," was the short reply.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

Q had by now managed to get through about three hours of the most terrifying and first flight he had ever had to endure. Although when he was hired by MI6 he stipulated very, very clearly that he refused to ever fly no matter the circumstances; and if they didn't like that there were a lot of other employers he could take his skills too. Yet here he was. He had survived this far through a mixture of hiding under a blanket, flatly ignoring the fact he was on a dreaded airplane and dosing himself with tranquilizers that promised a full ten hours of ignorant bliss. They lasted about two until even Q's sleep starting getting anxious. This is what led him now to crawl into a fetal position like ball in the most claustrophobically tight space on the entire private jet. He did this in the hope that being in the smallest space would afford him better chances of survival for the inevitable crash, much like people do in hurricanes.

This is where Bond – horrible, horrible Bond who was solely responsible for convincing him to do this terrible thing in the first place - found him eventually looking somehow even worse than before. Bond had been watching Q's nerve-wracked display with amusement, not actually thinking Q would handle it that badly. As time wore on and Q disappeared from the cabin and didn't return the agent felt as if it was his responsibility to check on his lovely quartermaster, perhaps torment him a little further if the mood took him.

"Q, are you alright?" Bond bent down beside his friend.

"No." Q said shortly, his head between his bent knees as he sat on the floor.

"I could take your mind off it if you like?" Bond suavely attempted to put into practice the plan he'd spent the last ten minutes perfecting back in the cabin.

"How?"

"Come back to the cabin."

"Alcohol. Really, Bond?" Q asked skeptically as he saw all the mini bottles Bond had lined up on the table.

"It will help, I promise." Bond reasoned with a concerned but amused look that told Q he was at least trying to help but not without some benefit to himself. Like the benefit of watching Q get entirely sloshed, a sight which despite working together for months, Bond had yet to see.

"Give it here." Q said shortly as another wave of fear induced nausea hit him. He tipped the bottle back to free him of his fears. Bond followed suit and soon the two were seated in the cabin, laughing over something that neither of them could remember. James Bond learnt that a drunk Q was something he was very much going to enjoy in the future.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"Good evening, Mr. Bond." A voice sounded in front of Bond as he closed the door to his apartment. Bond tensed for yet another duel with what sounded like the standard evil genius type. The swivel chair lair of his new nemesis spun to reveal none other but Q.

"Really, Q?" Bond slouched back into some restfulness, now feeling how tired he really was.

"I thought it was entirely unfair that you always seem to break into my apartment but I never do the same." Q smiled as sweetly as he could at the other man.

"Well, now that I finally have you here, how about a drink?"

"And now you're trying to ply me with alcohol, we've got into such a predictable rut, Mr. Bond." Q rose from his chair slowly, walking towards the agent in the same predatory approach he'd seen James perfect so many times.

"I'm guessing you've already ransacked my liquor supply?" Bond looked Q up and down appraisingly.

"So tell me, would you like me to be one of your villains or one of your girls, Mr. Bond." Q asked him, continuing forward.

"I'll have to think about it. Maybe you should show me a taste of each before I decide." Bond shot back with his usual prowess in these matters. Q stepped back from where he had stood in front of and very close to the agent, crossed the room and placed another glass next to his already empty one, filling them both.

"Hmm, I believe I'll try the villain first, what would they usually do in this situation?" The handsome quartermaster smiled at the agent.

"Generally there's a long speech about how I've interfered with their spectacular plans and I won't any longer, which I do anyway." Bond smirked, partly for remembering all the times he'd foiled "foolproof plans", partly for the satisfaction that he thinks he might really, finally, have Q exactly where he wants him.

"I'll give it a shot." Q moved to sit on the lounge opposite where Bond had taken a seat. He placed one leg over the other and lent back in the most authoritative pose he could muster to match Bond's superior secret agent persona.

"Mr. Bond, I had this plan," Q began, but trailed of a little as his inebriated mind slowly worked on what his spectacular plan even was. "I was to be the best quartermaster you ever had. Professionally, of course. You just had to interfere with your face, and your suits, and the guns – Oh god the guns!- and, and your voice, and your walk and you've interfered for the last time! Do you want to know why?" Q leant forward and looked at Bond like he was infinitely more powerful and dangerous than any of the megalomaniacs 007 had ever faced. Perhaps repeatedly supplying this genius with alcohol hasn't been the smartest idea.

"Do enlighten me, Q." Bond replied, thinking of how cute Q could be when he went off on tangents.

"You won't interfere because I've already won, not only do I know I'm the best quartermaster you've ever had, or not yet had rather, but I'm your definitely your favourite."

"How do you know you're my favourite?" Bond questioned.

"Look at me. And look at you. At what we've been doing, what we will be doing. Gadget supplier, beautiful Bond girl and intellectual entertainment in all one package, how could I possibly not be your favourite?"

Bond thought about this as he looked at Q's perfect face and his intelligent eyes and figured he was pretty much right.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm sorry about the wait and that they seem to drink all the time. To me James Bond equals alcoholism. **

**Nine**

Now that Bond had helped Q discover the secret to safe flying he was able to accompany Bond more and more. Having successfully got well inebriated on the lounge of a private jet one late night flight Bond turned to Q and asked, "Will you go to dinner with me?" Q just stared up at the secret agent through hazy eyes, not understanding the implications of such an easily misunderstood request.

"Why?" Q asked, staring into the agent's eyes, searching for the spark of deceit he so often hides. He still held a small doubt as to whether Bond was in fact sincere and that he wasn't just a useful "Bond girl", as the other MI6 personnel had taken to calling the women he seemed to amass on every mission.

"The usual purpose is nutrients but I find it is more enjoyable in the company of others." Bond slurred expertly through his sentence, with the experience of long alcoholism. Happy that they were coming home from a mission so he could be intoxicated enough to ask the question that had been on his mind more and more of late. Bond had always enjoyed, even looked forward to playing with Q, the teasing and the company of the other man was something James reveled in and found he wanted more outside MI6.

"Yes, but why me, James?"

"If you have not noticed by now we spend a lot of time together and I actually like that enough to want to continue that outside of work."

"I see." Q muttered, slouched down and staring into his glass. "Well, I suppose it would be okay."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I just had to write this after watching From Russia with Love. Sean Connery's wave at the end is just funny.**

**Ten**

Q scoffed at the computer screen not quite believing what he had just seen from the CCTV. He could be wrong but he swears he just saw _the_ James Bond give the most feminine wave he had ever seen in his life. And he had seen a lot for some reason which he should probably be questioning later.

"What was _that_, James?"

The agent was spared replying to Q's taunts, busy seducing yet another beautiful women and wishing it was someone else. However he could not put off reconnecting communications for as long as he would like to.

"Alright Q, get it over with." Bond sighed, knowing he was certainly tough enough to deal with a few jokes.

"Really, my first question is why?"

"I wanted you to know that she meant nothing, Q, really you should be flattered rather than rude."

"Surely you could have chosen some other hand gesture besides a beautiful impression of a swan?" Q used the joke he had been perfecting in Bond's absence, really quite chuffed with himself.

"I'm sorry it didn't quite live up to your expectations. You could always try romancing a woman on an unstable gondola while attempting to wave at someone who right now is actually quite undeserving of my chivalrous efforts."

"You're right I'm quite flattered, Bond, thank you." Q mocked further.

James Bond sighed exasperatedly in response. He should have known defending himself was a lost cause anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

The lights were dazzling and the people moved beautifully in a sea of youth. However, James Bond didn't care. He had only two things on his mind. The first, busting a nationwide cocaine ring, a simple enough task, not even of world domination importance. Unfortunately, the second thing on his mind made it near impossible to concentrate. Q, the ever helpful quartermaster was taking the liberty of describing at length how he would dance around Bond in this exact situation in a fashion unbefitting a public establishment.

Bond gave up his surveillance to find a secluded hallway, leaning against the wall, imitating an intoxicated patron so he could speak freely over the intercom.

"Q," his voice came out rasping.

"Yes, 007?"

"Could you kindly, stop." He spaced out his last word threateningly with a pop sound at the end of his request.

"Maybe I could with a little incentive." Q tried to seem entirely innocent.

"I have to catch the bad guys first, Q. That comes later." Bond tried to steer Q back to the task at hand which could be accomplished much quicker if his quartermaster would actually do his job seeing as how he's caused Bond to lose both time and his targets.

"Okay 007, ones by the bar and the other is on the dance floor putting into practice some of the moves I'm going to use later. Judging by these files the one at the bar would very much appreciate your company in the alley outside."

"Hey, I don't tell you how to do computer stuff." Bond responded as he made his way over to the bar to do exactly what Q told him to.

"Bond." James said confidently to the young man sitting alone at the bar.

"Excuse me?"

"James Bond." He smiled and his mark smiled back. They made their way to the back door of the club on intuition and alcohol alone, that and James' experienced charm. Somewhere between the introduction and the end Q had already tuned out but 007 had his information and that was what was important. It didn't matter to Q how many people Bond had to entice just so long as he came home for what Q had promised him.

Q was waiting up for James when he got home at three that morning with his mission wrapped up all nicely.

"Q, you know you don't have to wait for me I wasn't going to just disappear between MI6 and here." 007 smiled anyway, not the predacious smile he had given earlier but a softer, domestic smile that still made Q a little speechless. He had always known Bond was a good actor, he just was never sure, and still isn't, which part he was in fact acting.

"That's not why I waited for you." Q smiled back in a way half between the others and with an added lust.

"Are you going to show me what you said now?" He was no longer tired as he looked into his quartermaster's eyes and saw how could spend the rest of the morning before Q had to go to work.

"Yes."


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

A few weeks later Q happened to be quite bored with his never-ending work and decided it was time to give Bond his promised "Bond girl" attempt. He called the agent down to his office claiming he needed help with something. Bond walked into his office moments later to find an empty desk, but before he had any time to react to this unexpected occurrence he felt a familiar presence behind him.

"Mr Bond, you've fallen right into my trap." Q murmured in Bond's ear putting into practice his terrible attempt at a Russian accent. Q crossed the room to sit up on the desk in front of the secret agent.

"Come and get me."

Bond started to cross the room but didn't make it before he fell into Q's expertly crafted snare. 007 found himself hanging from the ceiling trapped in a rope Q had painted to blend exactly into his office.

"You really put a lot of effort into this didn't you?" Bond joked, hoping that if he played off his mistake as nothing Q would get bored and let him go.

"I did, which is why you will not be weaselling out of it any time soon so you can just give that up. I promised Moneypenny I'd go get her if it actually worked so don't go anywhere." Q replaced his shoddy Russian outfit with his usual cardigan and with a last gloating smile closed the door behind him.

Then Bond could get to work. There is not a singular rope on the planet that can restrain a double oh for long. Q returned looking smug in conversation with an amused but wary Moneypenny. The tech genius walked into the room without looking and his overconfidence was rewarded by two hands grabbing his shoulders roughly from behind. As he felt the cool metal slide around his wrists Q berated himself for falling for the same trick Bond had. They were turning out to be incredibly competent MI6 operatives. Q was drawn from pondering his bruised pride by Moneypenny announcing the obligatory,

"I told you so." As she left the room, being absolutely no help to Q at all, _thank you._

"You should have known better than to think you could hold me, Q."

"But I can always hold you, 007, whenever I like." Q smiled innocently up at James and hoped that he'd let him go soon so he could get some work done, preferably not with his hands behind his back.

Unfortunately, Bond had other ideas.

_A/N: I know this chapter's fairly off and I just couldn't fix it, I gave up so I can get on to the others._


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

They were drinking. Again. It had become a way for the agent and his quartermaster to switch off from the unbelievable lives they survived every day. It helped to break down and blur the lines of a working relationship with surface attraction, to make them more open to a deeper importance that neither of them were entirely comfortable with admitting to at present. Having just come back from a moderately difficult mission and a fairly easy dinner reservation Bond was displaying the success of his assignment with just a few discreet cuts and bruises and yet another slightly torn suit. Q on the other hand was displaying the success of their dinner with a goofy grin and a formal variation of his usual style of dress. They collapsed on the lounge, drinks in hand. Eventually the conversation led, as it usually does to previous relationships, of which Bond had had quite a few and Q considerably less.

"This doesn't seem to faze you at all, James."

"What doesn't?"

Q laughed with little effort. "Giving up your "Bond girl" life, me being a man, you know the general things that are supposed to faze suave secret agents."

"What made you think I hadn't done anything like this before?" Bond smiled at Q in a knowing way.

"Did you not just hear a thing I said, dear? Suave, girls, seduction, you know?"

"You shouldn't believe everything you see, Q. And more importantly you should always know about the things you don't see. You could never be an agent thinking like that."

"I might reconsider that exploding pen if you would be so kind as to tell me what I don't see." Q drawled sarcastically, a little hurt at Bond's judgment of his possible skills as an agent.

"Well, I'm an excellent secret agent, who as you so clearly underestimated, uses seduction as a means to an end. Occasionally, the target happens to be a male. I've gotten quite good at it actually, almost as good as with women. I know exactly what they want. Would you like me to show you my technique?"

Q gulped and nodded quickly, setting down his almost empty glass. James Bond slowly leant over his quartermaster as they shifted on the lounge, pushing him down and flattening his body over Q's. He pushed forward to meet his genius' mouth, muffling the sound he had induced from the other man. Q was lost in the feeling of James pressing himself against his body, everywhere at once and moving just slightly in the most enrapturing fashion. The feeling of his tongue being unrelenting as they are both solely focused on the sensations they can create together.

Q's hands move to wrap around Bond's biceps, the muscle under his hands shifts and Q feels the pressure on his body suddenly release painfully while he is still aching with need. Bond pulls away from his mouth but with his eyes closed he can still feel Bond's breath on his cheek. Agonising seconds pass before James Bond whispered to him, "That's for shooting me." Bond sprung up and grabbed his glass for another drink while Q just sat up with his head in his hands, the picture of dejection.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

The heavy cigar smoke clouded its three occupants in an opaque mist. Hiding away from the modern world in a beautiful, historic office, away from cameras and bugs, trapped before the golden age of espionage.

"Honestly, Mr Bond I have no idea what you're talking about." The reply drifted out of the cloud.

"That's a shame, Saltzman, I thought we could have come to some agreement to end all these necessary pleasantries."

"As did I, Mr Bond, you know I detest playing even a two-bit role in any of your games."

The two men on the other side of the desk, rose from their leather bound chairs to stub their cigars and leave only with the lingering scent in their suits to remind them of their failure.

"And how was that tedious man supposed to help us?"

"That, Q, is arguably one of the most powerful men on the planet."

"Him? Really? He seemed like just another one of the rich elite who think that money alone can buy countries."

"Knowledge is power, and he prides himself on knowing everything, including unfortunately, what we also need to know."

"At least a trip to the Diogenes is always good for keeping my self-esteem in check. It always amazes me that silence can be just as degrading as words." Q said glumly as they walked down the hall towards the exit.

"You're well acquainted with the Diogenes crowd. How you intrigue me, young quartermaster."

"You can stop with that upper class bit now, Bond. I'm sure we've both grown out of it by now."

"I guess so. Right boring lot, weren't they?" Bond said with a wink. Q giggled at James' cockney transformation.

"Oh great, here's another detriment to my mental wellbeing." Q drawled.

"Hey, you told me to stop." Bond whined before Q spun him round a corner to avoid the obstacle in their path, a brown haired, tall and rather determined obstacle that was making a beeline for the room at the end of the hall.

All Bond heard was a shout of "MY-" before the door cut it off.

"Who, was that?" Bond turned to look at Q who was pulling a long suffering expression.

"That, was my brother. I'm pretty sure he saw us so you'll be meeting him soon enough."


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

He had woken up late that morning, his only plans to 'improve' the television set. He knew his need to feel useful was driving Q and his apartment crazy but there was just nothing else to do waiting for his boyfriend to get home. Usually he would just go _somewhere_ and do _something._ But James found that he didn't want to be anywhere Q wasn't. So when he got a warning text from Tanner to stay away from MI6 he did exactly the opposite, as Tanner could have predicted he would.

Bond ran into Q branch with his suit half on and only one mission. Protect Q.

This mission was accomplished as Bond launched himself onto Q with the perfect timing that comes from an almost sixth sense for danger the double ohs seemed to possess, knocking him to the floor behind his desk. Q got up, a little shaken and about to berate 007 before he saw the massive piece of shrapnel embedded in the wall behind where he was standing before.

"You saved my life."

Q said, gasping for air, he sprung on to the now vertical 007 delivering breathless kisses. "It's okay, Q, you're fine." Bond murmured into Q's neck, stealing a moment's rest in the middle of the action.

"You're fine but we've got to leave, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bloody hell, if these people don't stop breaking into MI6 every day I'm going to go after them myself, I'm supposed to be on holiday."

"It's not much of a holiday if you just lie on my couch, watch TV and try to fix everything."

"About that, I sort of broke the TV this morning."

Bond's half-hearted attempts at humour had snapped Q out of his near death hysteria with the reminder that yet again, he and all his little techies have to get to the bunker because some terrorist group is trying to blow them up for like the fourth time this week. Something about vendettas against him for something or rather he did, Q never really kept track of everyone his work has made an enemy of. He's never really thought about it before, all the collateral damage he's caused to himself and everyone around him, and that's before factoring in everything Bond has done.

"Well, lets get moving then." Q said, not wanting to let them win, whoever they were or for whatever reason. Q does not like to lose.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

"Sherlock!"

"Oh, what now, Felix?"

"I-what- I told you not to call me that or has it escaped your brilliant mind that Bond is in the next room."

"You know his name why can't he know yours, it's only fair, and besides I have a very slight margin for error but I'm almost entirely sure your intimacy goes beyond a first name basis already."

"What are you playing at, Sherlock."

"Nothing at all." Sherlock smiled but it came out looking slightly forced and lopsided, making Q even more on edge than he was already. "Okay, John told me I should take more of a positive interest in your life, well I say told, I mean bribed."

"Whatever. The most positive interest you can take right now is smiling over the salads and keeping your big mouth shut, I'm sure John would like that too."

Q saw from the fuming look in his brother's eyes that he'd touched some nerve but right now he was honestly too tired to care. Sherlock had made the awful mistake of inviting him to dinner, he could bear the consequences. They had all agreed some years ago to keep all familial meddling to a minimum. He knew Mycroft would break this promise almost certainly, if subtly, but he hadn't expected this from Sherlock. Maybe John was a bad influence afterall.

But when he had entered the restaurant and he saw Sherlock and John before they saw him, the way they moved around each other at the table, the easy flow between the two personalities, when they looked at the other both casually but intensely. Q found it hard not to approve of this man. Sure he had changed Sherlock but hopefully in the way you polish a stone, not cutting it to fit through a square gap.

Q had expected some kind of explosion to happen between his brother and his sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend. But he had not expected it to be this bad. Sherlock, deprived of his experiments for one night found great joy in probing Bond about his first-hand knowledge of the effects of explosives on human tissue, of which Bond had plenty of experience apparently. Q should be thrilled but he was more put out that he was finding his salad a bit difficult to handle. He was consoled at least in exchanging disgusted and long suffering looks with Doctor Watson.

"Maybe this wasn't actually the best idea." John lent over and muttered to Q behind his hand.

"I suppose I can't blame you for trying." Q understood that the doctor's intentions were always honorable, which is good enough for his annoying brother.

As the explosive conversation waned and the wine dwindled the four diners called for the cheque. Sherlock promptly paid while Q mounted a protest.

"I invited you, brother, therefore I must pay. Surely you have not forgotten the social conventions of our childhood."

Q looked to Bond for some kind of backup to his rapidly failing argument but James just turned to Q and smirked, "Fair is fair, Felix," and Q groaned. Another secret gone, along with more barriers and just more chances for regret later.

_A/N: I'm going from Australia to ye olde England tomorrow. So I probably won't update for a month or two. When I get back I'll try and finish this real quick though so I can get on to something even better. _


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